Remnant
by Natasha Vera
Summary: AVENGERS: ENDGAME SPOILERS! It's 2012, and Loki is free... for a time. He must go back, back to a time when he was tried for a crime he was powerless to stop, and later killed for failing the mission. But, he will leave behind something for his brother to care for. A remnant of a life he could have had.


_So, I saw Avengers: Endgame this weekend. I DID NOT like how they ended the Thor branch of the series, so I included my fix. This may, or may not turn into a full length story. Not sure, yet. _

2012

Stark Tower

Honestly, for all the intelligence Stark claimed to have possessed, he couldn't have built a better technology to withstand battles? Loki watched as the man sputtered on the ground, the Shield agents flying to him and his brother on his knees trying to discern what was wrong. Loki meanwhile stood, arms waist high, stupid brace around his jaw to keep him from talking, bored. Half an hour ago, he was zinging through the metropolis on a Chitauri speeder, and now?

A man dressed in Midgardian armor moved to join the disturbance, calling over his shoulder commands for emergency services.

A thunderbolt ran down Loki's spine. He knew that voice. He knew that frame! He watched, turning his head to see this agent move not towards the huddling bodies, but for the sterling metal chest containing the Tesseract. Part of Loki's mind was satisfied that the sterling chest had been secured, but by this meaningless agent?

He watched him go, narrowing his eyes at such a brisk walk. So suspicious! It was as though the agent was worried that someone would-

"HULK NO LIKE STAIRS!"

The doors erupted off their hinges before the green monster arrived on scene, one of them flying through a window and frightening what street healers were close. The other door landed right upon the suspicious agent's chest, knocking him off his feet and sending the sterling chest flying.

Loki watched, the jaw brace pressing against his lips as the chest opened on impact, and sent the Tesseract flying, sliding… right at Loki's feet. He barely had time to peer around at the chaos before bending down, grabbing the fluorescent cube in his shackled hands, thought of a safe haven, and clutched the Tesseract to his chest. Then he was gone. Free, with an Infinity Stone in hand.

2019

Midgard

New Asgard, Norway

Loki stands beside Thor, the both of them watching the sun as it rises over the broiling sea. It is truly one of the most magnificent things the brothers have ever seen on Midgard. Thor did well in selecting the land for the refugees.

Loki inhales, knowing, dreading, that he has to go back to the past. Knowing he will receive an unjust trial, witness several sieges of his home, and eventually…

"Did," Loki begins, the same moment Thor began to speak. They look at each other and laugh softly.

"You go ahead," Thor tells him, waving a light hand. "I've spoken enough."

Loki swallows, and turns away. "Did… do, I ever marry?"

Thor shakes his head. "No. At least not to my knowledge." He shoots him a side look, "You could always surprise me."

Loki gives a breathy chuckle. He opens his mouth to speak, but words fail him. For the first time in his life, he is speechless before his brother. He nods at last, pursing his lips for a single moment. "Far too much independence to take a wife," He says at last.

"Yeah," Thor agrees. "Too much running to lay down roots of your own."

"Well," Loki grins, turning to look at his brother, cocking an eyebrow, "I could always surprise you in the future."

Thor sat with his hand in his hair. It had only been an hour, one hour, but it felt a lifetime since his brother had been returned to the time when death had claimed him. Around him, the celebrations of reunions from these years of disappearances. But he… he could not find himself to join their revels. He was not united now. His brother had come to give him aid one last time. One last time. Now he was gone, this time for good.

From his side, a hand glided over his shoulder. "Your majesty," A woman's voice breathed.

Brunhilde. He was partially surprised she hadn't drunk herself half blind by now. The other half didn't care.

"He left you something," Brunhilde's soft voice cooed.

Thor lifted his head, his heavy heart rising ever so slightly. "What?" He asked, looking to her.

She smiled, and sat down next to him. "On the Asgardia," She told him, "Loki gave me this before I took the last of the survivors." She withdrew from her side a long, thin piece of metal engraved with runes. "He said, if he never made it back, to give it to you. He said you'd know what to do with it."

Thor took the piece of metal, rubbing his thumb over the runes. It was sterling silver, a dainty thing not meant for wars or everyday use. It almost looked an ornamental thing, meant for ceremony.

"Why now?" Thor asked, turning the piece in his hands.

"The disappearances," Brunhilde told him. "I just, pushed it aside out of emergency."

"What is that?" Captain Carol Danvers' voice asked, her face coming into view.

The moment the Captain asked the words, it dawned on Thor what it was that he held between his fingers.

"Oh no," He breathed. "Please, no."

"What is it?" Brunhilde demanded, her tone of voice drawing Carol closer.

Thor lifted his eyes to his comrades-in-arms, and lifted the silver so that they might see it's runes perfectly etched.

"It's a key," He told them.

Brunhilde straightened as though one of his thunderbolts had hit her, her eyes whisking over the silver key, analyzing it with deeper scrutiny. Carol leaned forward though, narrowing her eyes to try and see a key.

"That's right," Brunhilde breathed. "It's an Alfheimian key." Her eyes met Thor's, the same question on her lips as was on his mind. "You don't think…?"

He inhaled, "Gods, I hope not."

Carol looked between the two of them before asking, "What's with an Alfheimian key?"

Only Brunhilde turned to address her. "Alfheim is a vassal state, a sort of playground for the royal family. That key, it's for the Royal Estates of the Crown of Asgard. Owned by the king and his family. Only the king could give them, usually to members of his family who didn't wish to stay on Asgard."

"Or couldn't," Thor grunted, pulling the key closer. "Some people were too important for the castle."

"Who would be too important for the castle of Asgard?" Carol asked, gesturing with her eyes to the key.

Brunhilde and Thor locked gazes. "A lover," She answered.

"A wife," Thor corrected, tightening his grip on the key.

Alfheim

Thor couldn't have stayed one more night on Midgard even if the celebrations were all about him. The moment Captain Danvers declared the Benatar ready for space travel, Thor was on it, punching in the codes for Alfheim. As they zoomed over the many forests and waterfalls, soaring over unkempt estates from years of neglect, Thor could not help but keep to himself, his thoughts an ever-plaguing storm of scorpions.

"What if there's no one there?" Carol asked, looking at him.

"Then what would be the point of keeping a key hidden like a treasure?" Brunhilde asked.

Carol shot her a quick look of "you're not helping," but said nothing. "Which one are we going to?" She asked instead, her eyes spotting great ringed fortresses that could easily land six Benatars in a single quadrant.

"The big one," Thor told her, gesturing to a stacked mansion towards the east. "Always the big and gaudy one."

"Most obvious target," Carol muttered, maneuvering the ship to head that direction.

"That's the gathering hall," Thor told her. "It was kept separate for that reason. The one behind it is the most coveted estate. It offers the best view, the best hunting, the best vineyards and gardens."

"Sounds like you've been here before," She commented, focusing on her flying.

"It's the hall of queens," Thor grunted, his demeanor sinking with each breath. "It was my mother's, and it will be my queen's when I marry."

The women were silent; either from his demeanor or the realization that he would, eventually, have to marry Thor couldn't say. He just wanted this over with.

Then Benatar landed with a gentle thump, and at once, Thor was at the loading dock, waiting for the ramp to be lowered.

"You ready?" Brunhilde asked, drawing his eyes to her. She was serious, her stance poised to defend him.

"I don't expect a fight for this one," He told her. "At least, not one that requires Stormbreaker or your Dragonfang."

"You hope," She said with a slight smile.

He couldn't manage a full smile, but he smirked. The door opened completely, and the sun greeted them, nearly blinding them if it hadn't been for the giant meeting hall covering half the intense rays. Thor trudged down the ramp, walking quickly to the hall behind them. It was a lovely, generously sized castle made of stone and wood, the opening arch carved with images of horses and salmon racing upstream. Thor merely glanced at the arch, remembering fondly a time when he and Loki would race under it on their own horses to the river beyond the house, hoping to catch fish with their bare hands.

"HALT!" A voice boomed over the grass.

Thor skidded to a halt, only about twenty feet from the main house. At once, four men and women carrying work scythes and axes stepped out from various places, their weapons poised to attack.

"What are you doing here?" One woman, the original voice, commanded. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to address your king?" Brunhilde snapped, eyeing the axe the woman carried.

The woman lifted her chin, but said nothing. She only continued her hard stare at Thor.

He cleared his throat and said, "I am Thor Odinson, King of Asgard. Where is your master?"

"Master?" The woman scoffed. "We have none! But our mistress is inside." She jerked her chin over her shoulder to the main house. "She's only just returned to us. You wouldn't happen to want to take her away as your bride, would you? Her husband wouldn't like that."

"You'd be surprised," Thor muttered to himself, then commanded in a clearer voice, "Take me to her, if you please."

Without further ado, the woman lowered her axe, and turned her heel to head inside to the cool house that overlooked the majestic river. From this distance, they could hear the rush of the water, and the smell of mud and fish freshly harvested. Around the vast property, they could see flocks of sheep and goats moving about their pens, and horses that frolicked in absolute freedom. To the opposite side, gardens planted for beauty and for functionality swayed in the breeze, sending to her guests the smell of wisteria and honeysuckle. Thor didn't wait for an invitation. He cut his boots across the emerald grass to the big wooden doors, dread filling each step.

Inside the cool, stony house, Thor stepped onto an immaculate mosaic of the seal of the Crown of Asgard inlaid with gold flakes and rough precious gems, flanked on either side by fires burning in iron pits. Off to one side, a table waited bearing fresh fruit and cheese along with a decanter of wine and small glasses.

"Make yourself comfortable," The woman commanded, pointing to the table. "I'll go and fetch my mistress."

At once, Thor moved to pour himself a glass of wine and swallowed it in a single gulp. It was good, hearty Asgardian wine, the kind he missed terribly! He sincerely hoped this servant was not the worst kind that saw the food and drink as liberty to ignore them for however long it was until they felt like summoning her mistress. He would hate to appear too much of a drunk before the lady of the house.

"You've been here before?" Brunhilde asked, her voice echoing against the high ceilings.

Thor made a noise of agreement, setting his goblet down. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to think about his childhood visits here, playing in the gardens with Loki and the other servant children, he just wanted to get this part over with as painlessly as possible.

The sound of glass shattering brought him full around. A woman, gorgeous in face but with an impossibly round stomach protruding from a fine woolen gown stood before them, her face a picture of agony as a shattered vase leaked water at her feet. Thor swallowed, looking from her yellow hair to her puckered lips and willowy frame, to the weight around her middle.

"Oh no," He breathed.

Slowly, he stepped towards her, a million questions coming to mind. He spoke only one.

"Are you his wife?"

Her eyes searched him, brilliant blue eyes that looked like they held the sky. She inhaled, and said, "If you are here, then I am his widow."

Such a simple statement, but oh the observation! Thor's chest tightened to the point of collapse. In that moment, he wanted his friends. He could use Stark's inappropriate sarcasm to diffuse the moment. Or even Steve's shadow standing firm beside him, letting him know he wasn't alone.

He inhaled, and nodded.

Her hands flew to her stomach and she looked away, her servants coming forth with words of concern. Then at once, she moaned, a short, helpless sound. She inhaled, her eyes beginning to soak. Thor tensed, waiting for it. Her knees buckled and she screamed.

"Loki!" She cried, grabbing onto her servant's shoulder as her feet tangled among the shattered vase and discarded roses. "Loki! No!"

Thor stepped forward, closing the distance and fell to his knee before her, ignoring the soaking fabric. She cried and screamed, and he wormed his hand into hers. He wanted to assure her, to tell her that he died a hero. But what use was that now?

A warm knot touched his hand and he flinched back, staring down at her bulbous stomach. So, she is pregnant, Thor thought. She touched her free hand to her middle, and shuddered, rubbing her stomach. "Its okay," She whimpered. "We're going to be okay my little ones."

"Yes," Thor told her, his own eyes beginning to sweat. She looked up at him, her beauty pressing through her grief. "I promise you, you shall be taken care of."

Brunhilde scanned the horizon from the steps of the manor house as Carol fed the goats from over the wooden fence. Thor had been inside the castle for a while, likely waiting to see how the Widow of Loki was going to be according to her healer. Pregnancy with twins as a tricky thing, apparently.

Carol sighed loudly, her footsteps making their way to Brunhilde's side. "Such a beautiful realm," She breathed, inhaling deeply as she sat down.

"Yeah," Brunhilde agreed. "There's a reason the royal family kept this portion of the universe for themselves."

"Strange, isn't it? Rich people can keep such nice things for themselves and what do we get?"

Brunhilde smirked, "Booze."

Carol managed a smile. "What's going to happen to people like us, Brunhilde? Now that the war's over?" She looked at her, her words drawing Brunhilde's attention. "What is going to happen when there's no one left to fight?"

"There's always someone to fight, Captain." Brunhilde told her. "Universal peace will have to be maintained somehow."

"Will you go back to New Asgard?" Carol asked, leaning back against the granite steps.

"I think so," Brunhilde told her. "There's still a lot to be done. And Thor always said, Asgard is not a place, it's a people."

Carol nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Home is home."

Silence passed between them, save the wind running through the tall grass and trees, the nearby river tripping and rushing over rocks, and the sheep and goats bleating in the distance. They both turned at the same time at the sound of a sniff, and a heavy step over the foyer. Both women were on their feet at the same time, determined to see what strangers approached them.

Thor moved, hand-in-hand with the beautiful blonde woman dressed entirely in black. This woman, whomever she was, had been crying, and was very, heavily pregnant. Two of her servants also carried two travelling chests behind her, one Brunhilde was certain was filled with gold.

At once, Brunhilde crossed her chest with a fist and bowed at the waist. She knew, understood it without having heard a word, that something had passed between the widow and her king. The question of what it was, was absolutely disturbing.

"Ladies," Thor told her, setting her straight. "Will you escort us to the river?"

Thor was moving before Brunhilde could speak her assent. He walked hand-in-hand with the woman, speaking soft words to her as she began crying once again.

"I don't like this," Brunhilde told her companion as they walked.

"Why?" Carol asked, eyes narrowing at Thor's back.

"I don't know," Brunhilde replied. "But this is going to change things."

There was a dock where ships might land when the tide was high enough and where fish might be caught. Thor and the woman made their way to it, his voice echoing against the expanse but incoherent to the two warrior women that followed him. His words must have been soft, for they stopped the woman's tears for a time. When they approached the dock, Thor released her hand, and watched as she proceeded forward, taking long and mournful steps to the edge, her lower lip trembling.

As soon as she could, Brunhilde moved to Thor's side. "Who is she?" She demanded softly, shifting her weight.

Thor lifted his chin, watching her stop halfway on the dock. "Her name is Sigyn," He told her. "Loki's widow."

Brunhilde rounded on him, eyes wide. "Widow?" She breathed.

"Yes," Thor said grimly. "She was his widow. She is now my queen."

Brunhilde could feel her heart stop in the time it took for Carol's jaw to drop.

A queen?!

Sigyn stood on the dock, her hands pressed to her chest as her shoulders shuddered. She turned to the edge, and stepped forward, her eyes scanning the rushing water. Brunhilde rushed forward, her feet halting just before touching the wooden dock. Valkyries were the designated Queen's Guard and they wouldn't, couldn't let anything happen to her.

As if she could read her thoughts, Sigyn took a step back, touching her huge stomach with her left hand. On her finger, she wore a marquise shaped ring consisting mostly of a great emerald in the center and surrounded by diamonds, a gaudy thing that Loki would choose for his bride. It shone beautifully on her hand, standing strongly against her black garments. It was her only adornment as mourning would dictate, and certainly a prize heirloom for the occupants of her stomach. But, she wriggled it off her finger, and lifted it to her lips for a tender kiss as intimate as kissing a lover.

Then tossed it into the river, inhaling sharply as she did so.

Brunhilde was next to her before she realized it. Her words were soft when she spoke to her, "My lady, unto you I pledge my sword."

For a moment, she thought the woman would fall into the river. Brunhilde glanced from the woman's disproportionate frame to the river, to the bank. She could be in the water and on the bank with her charge before she could gulp her first drink.

Then Sigyn turned, her eyes rimmed as red as Thor's cape, and nodded to Brunhilde. "I accept your sword on my children's behalf," She said, her voice heavy.

Twins, Brunhilde thought. Although a portion of her mind considered that quintuplets and cubs were within the realm of possibility given the nature of their sire. Brunhilde pushed that thought from her mind, gesturing instead to Thor and the way to safety away from the river. Sigyn moved matter-of-factly, her steps lithe and quick, almost like a dancer's. She might have been a dancer, in another time.

Could she have danced with Loki, once? Could he have taken her in his arms and twirled her around that great house in the distance? Could he even have played an instrument that caused her to sway to the rhythm and call upon the stars and the moon to join her movement? There were so many questions she wanted him to answer. That greasy, sneaky warrior that loved his family deep enough to go out of anyone's way of thinking to protect them.

A pain shot through Brunhilde's chest. He was gone, just like so many from the Asgardia, just like so many that she knew from long ago. He was gone and he would never know what his children would look like.

Sigyn walked, her head bowed and halted before Thor. He inhaled, drawing himself up as the mighty King of Asgard. Then, he kneeled before her, prompting Carol to take one step back.

"Sigyn Odinson," He began, "I pledge to make you my queen before these witnesses," He gestured to Carol and Brunhilde, "I take you as you are and all that you have accomplished to see where I cannot, be where I cannot, and to reign beside me with dignity and grace. As my queen, I give you and your children," He looked down to her stomach, "My house, my axe, and my…" He inhaled.

He was supposed to say "love." A king was supposed to love or be in love with his queen. He clearly felt neither for this strange beauty.

"Fealty," Sigyn told him.

"My fealty," Thor said, cocking his head to her in gratitude. "Sigyn," His voice lowered, sincerity coming through, "You will want for nothing. Your or your babe." He gestured to her middle. "I promise you. I, Thor Odinson, promise you."

Sigyn nodded slowly, and swallowed. "I accept your pledge," She breathed.

Thor stood, drawing himself to full height and power, and held out his hand, the last gesture of acceptance in absence of a crown. Shaking, Sigyn lifted a willowy arm and took his hand, letting him pull her into his chest as much as her stomach would allow. Thor looked down at his queen, his look one of pure tenderness, and moved an arm around her side. He moved down her legs and with an easy lift, swept her off her feet and into his arms. Brunhilde was beside him in an instant, waiting for any command, and gesture from her queen.

Sigyn moved her arms to wrap around Thor's neck, her spindly fingers digging into Thor's armor.

"Take care of my children," She breathed, a tear sliding down her cheek. "I don't care what happens to me."

"I do," He told her, peering into her eyes. "You'll see. I'll take care of all of you."

With that, he turned, and lead the procession back to the Bentatar, ready to lead his people in a new direction.

_Please Review!_


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